Chef's House by Raymond Carver

Humboldt county.

Chef's House is another Raymond Carver story where almost nothing happens and yet everything does. The narrator’s ex-husband, Wes, is a recovering alcoholic who’s rented a small house from a friend named Chef (hence the title). It’s a peaceful place in the countryside north of Eureka, California: fresh air, lots of sunshine, open green space and cheap rent thanks to a friends-and-family discount. For Wes, this house represents a reset button. He persistently asks Edna to come stay with him while he’s sober, hoping (maybe a little desperately) to heal, make amends, and become the version of himself she married before alcohol took over. Not necessarily to rekindle their marriage, but to prove he can be better.

Edna eventually agrees to go since she still cares for him. What follows is classic Carver: a slice-of-life story built from small moments, illuminating complex relationships. The narrative unfolds in these brief understated vignettes that slowly reveal the couple’s shared history. The damage, the regret, but also the tenderness that once existed between them. Their past isn’t portrayed as unrelentingly bleak. There were good times too, like visiting Wes’s family farm when the kids were still babies. One of the most affecting scenes has Edna gently sifting through these memories, reflecting on what was lost and an uncertain future. 

Forgiveness sits at the heart of the story. Wes struggles most with forgiving himself. The harm he caused Edna, being estranged from his kids, for the life that slipped away. But what really surprised me about this story  is the female narrative perspective. Carver doesn’t often write from a woman’s point of view and here it’s surprisingly effective. Edna’s voice is restrained, perceptive and emotionally grounded. Carver captures her interior life with remarkable sensitivity, showing how she holds empathy and self-protection in uneasy balance. It’s a refreshing change from his more male-centered stories and one that caught me completely off guard, in the best way.